Rivers - a group poem by WCT members

Rivers
All afternoon the sound of the river,
Green grow the rushes along the river bank,
Ambling amiably through Wimborne’s green hinterland.
Rivers swirling under the bridges
Swollen and brown with yesterday’s rain,
Bubbling dangerously near Julian’s Bridge where people end their lives.
The river is dark and fast flowing on this stormy winter’s day.
At New Year’s brink a young man drowns in the River Stour,
The Stour meanders through the centre.
There are rivers at every entrance to the town,
Flowing forever, changing all the time.

WCT workshops participants (Jonathan Petherbridge), December 2008


Other Revised Versions:

All afternoon the sound of the amiable rivers
ambling towards the town centre
through Wimborne’s green hinterland.
Green grow the rushes along the river bank
On this stormy winter’s day
the rivers flow dark and fast under the bridges
swollen and brown with yesterday’s rain,
bubbling dangerously near Julian’s Bridge
where at New Year’s brink
a young man drowns.

At every entrance to the town
rivers flow, forever changing.
Green grow the rushes along the river bank


All afternoon the sound of the Stour,
ambling along the river bank
amiably through Wimborne’s centre
through its green hinterland.
at every entrance rivers flow forever.
Green grow the rushes

Under the bridges, dark rivers swirl
fast-flowing on stormy winter’s days,
swollen and brown with yesterday’s rain.
at New Year’s brink a young man drowns,
the Stour bubbles dangerously near Julian’s Bridge
where people end their lives.
Green grow the rushes


 

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